Clara and the TARDIS
by MarleyLupin18
Summary: In which, eventually, the TARDIS takes it too far, and Clara has simply had enough.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just so you all know, before you read this, I _LOVE_ the TARDIS, but I really wanted so explore a different side of the Clara/TARDIS relationship (or lack of one). I've searched round for stories in which the way Clara is treated by the TARDIS is more of an issue than something to laugh at, and have found nothing, but I thought it'd be really interesting to see what would happen if it was something more serious in the 'verse. Please read and review :)**

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Clara sighed and dropped onto the jump seat in the console room, watching the Doctor haphazardly dash around, pressing buttons and pulling levers in a mad dash to get them back into the time vortex and away from 17th Century France, where they were now wanted for crimes against the throne. Clara grimaced slightly. Louis XIII _really_ didn't have much of a sense of humour. She rolled her shoulder, still throbbing painfully from her earlier fall when good old Louis had set his guards on her and the Doctor. The injury had happened when they came across a small river, and she had over-estimated her ability to jump with her slightly-too-short legs, and she had landed badly on her side.

She winced as the pain in her shoulder increased, and immediately ceased her attempts assess the damage herself. The Doctor must have noticed this, because he immediately stopped his dashing around and turned to stare at her, a look of light concern on his face. Clara morphed her expression into what she hoped was a neutral one. Ever since the events on Trenzalore, the Doctor's protectiveness increased ten-fold. At any sign of pain or discomfort, he began fussing over her and asking a thousand questions about her condition; were the memories of her echoes causing her head to hurt, did she feel dizzy, did she want to go and lie down for a few minutes. Always, her answer was the same. A small smile, a slight shake of the head and a remark along the lines of "I'm not an invalid, Chin Boy". This never really seemed to quite satisfy him, but he would let the subject drop, and it would be forgotten about. Not that his fussing bothered her or made her uncomfortable, she didn't mind that, but he was a busy, easily bored man, and any time he spent looking after her would only take away from the time he spent helping people who really needed it.

"Something wrong, Doctor?" she asked lightly, hoping he'd buy her act and not ask any questions.

His eyes narrowed a fraction, as if trying to figure something out. "Did you get injured earlier?" he asked, concern seeping into his voice. "When we were running from the guards?"

Her shoulders dropped a little. "'Course not, d'you really think I'd injure so easily? I'm fine. Stop worrying." She wondered if she'd said this a little too quickly when the Doctor's expression didn't change, or whether she was just being a bit too obvious. The TARDIS hummed and the Doctor glanced up at the ceiling, then back at her. Clara wondered what she'd told him, because he advanced slowly, and looked her up and down.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I can go and get something for you if you need me to."

"Doctor, _seriously, _I'm okay-"her speech was cut off as he placed a hand on her shoulder and she hissed in pain. The Doctor frowned. He tugged at the shoulder of her dress, ignoring her protests as it slipped off her shoulder to reveal a large nasty bruise forming. He let go and stood back, observing her face carefully.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he sounded a bit hurt, and she felt a pang of guilt at the look on his face.

"You had more important stuff to do than worry about me. Besides," she said, as he moved to interrupt, "it's just a bruise. Nothing exactly fatal, is it?"

His frown didn't lift. "Still though, I would've liked you to tell me." Now, a pang of irritation, at him, for his over concern, and at his stupid TARDIS, who must've told him to check her shoulder in the first place. "I'll go get you some ice for it." With this, he turned and left. The moment he was gone from the console room, the temperature dropped dramatically, not enough to freeze her, but enough to cause goosebumps to appear on her arms almost immediately. She frowned up at the ceiling of the TARDIS.

"Thanks for nothing," she muttered, and the time machine hummed in what seemed to be an amused, or smug manner. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, ignoring the increasing ache in her shoulder as she did so, in an attempt to stay warm. The TARDIS had a tendency to do this whenever it was just her in the room, and she always did her best to ignore it, because from her own experience, trying to fight the TARDIS never ended well. Now though, it was beginning to get on her nerves. It had started off with relatively harmless pranks. Hiding her bedroom, moving the swimming pool so whenever she entered a room she fell straight into it. Always annoying, but nothing malicious, at least until they had gone to Caliburn House. She wasn't sure exactly what had happened there that had soured her already non-existent relationship with the time machine so drastically. After that, the pranks became slightly more harmful than they had been, but only when the Doctor wasn't looking, of course.

He just found it all amusing whenever it wasn't obvious that whatever had happened had upset either Clara nor the TARDIS. She had hoped that after Trenzalore, when she had been "solved", the TARDIS might lighten up a little, considering everything that was now known, but it didn't really change anything. She sighed again, and recounted the occasions since Trenzalore when she had tried to make peace with the Doctor's oldest companion, and this only worsened her mood. Whenever she tried to talk to the TARDIS out loud, her words were ignored, not even met with the usual humming sounds made whenever the Doctor talked to her. She'd even started referring to the TARDIS as "her" in an attempt to make their situation more pleasant. This had certainly made the Doctor happy, but it had had no effect on his grouchy machine.

One day, when she was walking into the console room, the steps leading to it had disappeared completely and she had fallen face first onto the cold, hard floor. The steps had reappeared immediately, and in the Doctor's rush to make sure she was okay, had never even noticed that the steps had vanished.

Then there was the time she had decorated the console room when she and the Doctor decided to celebrate Christmas, but as soon as the Doctor had left, the TARDIS sent one of the heavy glass baubles flying towards her head from above, and she only just made it out of the way in time, as it smashed to pieces at her feet. The Doctor had come running back into the room a second later, a panicked look on his face, before his expression changed to one of great annoyance, and he scooped up the pieces of glass, lamenting over the fact it was extremely rare and had been given to him by the Queen of some alien planet whose name she didn't catch, and that he was now banished from for one reason or another. Clara had protested, said that the TARDIS smashed it, but after a series of angry noises from her, the Doctor simply dashed from the room to try and repair the bauble without a backwards glance, the TARDIS humming smugly in his wake.

After that, Clara had given up trying to fight her, or defend herself against anything she did. She stopped trying to make peace with her, or tell the Doctor when the TARDIS did something to upset her. Why would the Doctor believe her over the TARDIS, who he had been with for so long? "_And why should he_," she thought sadly. Long after she was gone, the TARDIS would still be there for him, and he would need her, so however much she wanted the Doctor to believe her, she couldn't risk disturbing his relationship with the sentient ship. Clara wanted her Chin Boy to be happy once she was gone for good, and she knew the TARDIS made him happy. Besides, it was obvious that the Doctor wasn't aware of any of the problems the TARDIS caused her, and honestly, recently she was just too tired all the time to say anything. She was still recovering from Trenzalore, an experience that had left her permanently exhausted.

"Alright," she said aloud to the ship. "You win. Not entirely sure what that'll mean for me, but you win." She waited. No response.

After another couple of minutes, the temperature in the room rocketed upwards again, stopping her shivering and announcing the arrival of the Doctor, who bounded into the room looking much happier than he had when he'd left it. Thinking about it, she still didn't know why the TARDIS had told him she was hurt, and she felt a twinge of irritation. She really hated not knowing.

Nevertheless, she put a grin on her face. "What's got you so happy Chinny?" she said lightly as he walked over to her, ice-pack in hand. He placed it over her injured shoulder, and she felt a numbing relief as the throbbing settled down a bit.

He smiled brightly. "Can't believe I forgot I had these!" he exclaimed. "Got them in the 26th Century. Normal ice-packs, but packed with tiny little nanogenes."

"Nanogenes?" she asked.

"Like _really_ small doctors and nurses, to help heal the injury," he explained.

"Are they safe then?"

"They generally do a good job, but they have been known to... work too well. Saw it happen in World War Two, it wasn't pretty."

Her eyes widened in alarm, and me must have seen her reaction. "Not to worry, these ones are completely fine. They're put into the pack to have the added effect of fast healing along with the numbing from the ice. Good, eh?" He seemed so enthusiastic she couldn't help smile back at him, and after a while, he removed the pack, to reveal that the bruising was gone completely.

"Thanks," she said softly, and he smiled back, before his expression changed again.

"If you get injured again tell me, okay?" he said, a frown back in place.

"Yeah, alright. I just don't want you worrying, that's all," she murmured.

"I always worry about you, Clara. I want you safe. I don't like it when I know you're hurt. It makes me feel sad... or guilty. I always get those two mixed up this time around."

Ah, there it was. This revelation from the Doctor sent a wave of guilt crashing over her and she realised why the TARDIS had told him she was hurt. She had wanted Clara to feel the guilt the Doctor must feel all the time. "_Well, it's certainly worked. Old cow_," she thought angrily. "_Why would the TARDIS ever do something nice for me, after all_?"

"Thanks Chinny, think I'll go lie down for a while." They smiled at one another, and she stood, crossing the console room to the corridor that led to her bedroom. "I'll see you later," she smiled back at him.

After half an hour of walking, however, she came to another realisation. The TARDIS had deleted her room again. Great.

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**So that was the first chapter... Please let me know what you think, and BE HONEST! A writer can only grow with honest criticism after all! Let me know if you'd like to see more of the story, because I have some more chapters for it planned out already and I hope to update soon! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for all the favourites, follows and reviews! They're really encouraging, and I hope you like this new chapter. Please keep on reading and reviewing, reviews are my fuel :)**

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Clara wasn't sure what do do. She stood staring at the blank wall where for the past few months, her bedroom had been. She wasn't really surprised though. This had happened at least twice before, but right now her exhaustion was too great for her to just go back to the Doctor and tell him that, actually, thinking about it, she was perfectly fine, and she didn't need to sleep, which is what she would normally do. She wasn't really upset; on the rare occasion that she elected to sleep in the TARDIS over night, she never left anything in the room that was of any value to her, so nothing she cared about would have been deleted with it. It also took away any sort of emotional impact when the room the TARDIS had given her was only just big enough for a bed and wardrobe, so it left no space for personal effects.

She stood and thought for a minute, about where she could go, and her first though was the Doctor's room. The TARDIS would certainly never do anything to that. There was so much important history in that room, both personal and otherwise, that she wouldn't dare delete it. But that was ridiculous, she decided. She certainly wasn't going to the Doctor and asking him if she could _sleep in his bed_, imagine what he'd make of that. No, she would have to think of somewhere else that was safe from the wrath of the TARDIS.

After a few minutes of drawing up a blank (her mind wasn't working at full capacity at the moment) it suddenly occurred to her. "The library," she thought. All those books, that was one room certainly safe from any type of pranking or deleting. She glanced along the corridor, which showed no sign of change, so it didn't seem as though the TARDIS had bothered to move anything about. She set off walking the familiar route to the library, one of the best rooms she had ever been in. Rows and rows and rows of books, in so many different languages, from so many different time periods, it was her idea of heaven.

She found the room with a strange lack of problems, and pushed the heavy, oak door open. She walked in and sloped over to her usual chair in front of the fire, which promptly went out. She thought she heard the TARDIS make a sound like a snigger, but she was tired; she might have imagined it. Something like putting a small fire out was more like what the TARDIS used to do. She hadn't really minded that, but if the TARDIS did anything while she was in here, she knew she would just scream with frustration.

Slowly, Clara drifted off to sleep, and when she awoke a few hours later, her neck was stiff. Her own fault this time though, she had slept in a rather awkward position. She sat up and stretched, rubbing her neck to try and work out the kinks. At some point while she slept, the TARDIS had re-lit the fire, and if she had been anyone else, Clara would have thought that the time machine was trying to be nice. She wasn't anyone else, however, and simply couldn't bring herself to believe that the TARDIS was just being nice. The Doctor must have been in here at some point while she slept and just not noticed her, or noticed her, and elected not to wake her. Either way, she was grateful for the warmth and stood, feeling more replenished than she had done in a while, even if she didn't have a proper bed to sleep on.

She left the library, and decided to take the long route to the console room, to pass by the corridor where her bedroom usually was and see if it had reappeared. Of course, it had. She sighed and walked past, wondering when the TARDIS had decided to bring it back.

Wandering into the console room, she looked around for the Doctor, but she could see no sign of him, and she almost walked back out to search for him, before she heard a large clanging from below the deck followed by a string of angry shouting in what must have been Gallifreyan, because while the TARDIS didn't like her, she still translated languages for her.

"Alright there Doctor?" she called, smirking slightly when she heard a loud band, and the Doctor appeared a moment later, a grumpy expression on his face, rubbing the top of his head.

"Ah, Clara, there you are! Sleep well?" he gave her a bright smile and once again she grinned back, his face too happy-go-lucky to resist.

"Not too bad thanks. Do anything good while I was gone?" her tone was light and airy as she joined him by the console, watching him as he sent them off to their next location.

"Just fixed the old girl up a bit really. Nothing much." They stood in silence as the TARDIS landed, then watched the doors as if expecting them to open of their own accord.

"So... are we?" she asked him when he made no move to leave or say anything. He glanced down at her for a moment.

"Not sure, to be honest. Definitely not where I intended us to go," he said, looking at the monitor and frowning. "Somewhere that we need to go, probably, but still. Would've been nice to actually go where I wanted to for once." He said the last part loudly, staring at the column of the console pointedly.

"Oh... well, we may as well see where she's brought us, right?" He grinned at her, and grabbed her hand, dragging her over to the doors, which swung open for them. She smiled at the sight before her. Tall, green mountains stretching as far as her eyes could see, a gentle breeze passing by, brushing her hair from her shoulders. She and the Doctor smiled at each other again, and hand in hand, they walked out to see what awaited, closing the doors to the TARDIS behind them.

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The doors to the TARDIS swung open, as the Doctor stumbled through, supporting a heavily limping Clara. He helped her to the jump seat and then set to taking them back into the vortex.

Clara couldn't believe it. Two says in a row, she had ended up sat in this very seat, injured and requiring some form of medical attention. She tried not to believe that the TARDIS had sent them there to injure her again, but recently, she was struggling to believe that things like this were happening by coincidence. She really didn't like this. For the first time, she felt genuinely unsafe in the Doctor's time machine. She was sure that when the Doctor had invited his previous companions on board, they had not spent all of their time in there fearing for their lives.

She had remembered many of them from the lives of her echoes. A blonde haired woman who had absorbed the heart of the TARDIS, a young Scots man who she remembered was called Jamie.. so, so many and apart from the American, Harkness something, all of them had been treated very well by the sentient time machine.

She snapped back to reality when suddenly, the Doctor's attention was back on her, as he turned and knelt in front of her, placing a hand on her leg. She winced in pain, trying to ignore the blood seeping through the material of her dress. He stared at the blood for a moment, before he had her back up on her feet, rushing her towards one of the corridors.

"You can sit down again in a minute," he muttered as they moved carefully along the hallway. She was relieved when she saw the door to the infirmary was right in front of them as they turned a corner. The Doctor rushed her inside and sat her down, looking around immediately for bandages and disinfectant.

She tried not to blush when he moved the skirt of her dress up her thigh, instead more comfortable on concentrating on the grim looking wound that was revealed. He set to work cleaning the wound and she winced again as the disinfectant stung her sharply.

"Sorry," he muttered. "It'll be fine in a few minutes."

"Not your fault," she sighed. "You didn't know those things would be armed." She looked to the ceiling, trying to ignore the stinging and take her mind off the fact that the Doctor had his hands running over her leg. He looked up at her and smiled weakly, before wrapping her thigh tightly in bandages.

He stood again, looking at her freshly wrapped injury wearily. "You should try and get some sleep," he said, and she almost jumped in alarm at the thought of trying to sleep in the machine after the day she had had. If she was to go to sleep, she wanted it to be somewhere she felt safe. Sadly, the TARDIS no longer was one.

"No!" she exclaimed, quickly regretting it when he gave her a strange look, one of confusion and suspicion.

"...Is there a problem, Clara?"

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**Thanks again for reading! I plan to have the next chapter up in the next two-three days, but if you're lucky, I might be able to write it sooner than that! Again, I really appreciate all the reviews, favourites and follows! See you all again soon :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks again for the reviews, follows and favourites! It means a lot. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything bar the plot, sadly.**

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They stared at one another for a few moments, and Clara felt her heart thumping rapidly in her chest. Why did she have to speak so harshly? A simple "No, it's fine, I'll sleep back at home," would have sufficed, but in her haste to reject his offer, she had just made him suspicious.

"Clara?" he asked again, his gaze making her uncomfortable. She could feel her resolve to stay silent crumbling; she knew she was going to end up telling him. "...Clara? Anyone in there?"

Her eyes met his own concerned ones. "It's nothing Doctor, it's just..." She trailed off, not sure how she was going to end her sentence.

"Just...? Just what?"

"Doctor, it's- it's..." Her eyes met his, and try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth. She had seen him throughout all of his lives, and one thing that was always constant, whether Gallifrey existed or not, was the Doctor and his TARDIS. The TARDIS and her Doctor. She wasn't arrogant enough to assume that she was important enough to disrupt their- er- relationship, but if the Doctor knew his beloved ship was tormenting one of his companions, she didn't know how he'd react. "It's nothing. I'd just rather recuperate at home, if you know what I mean. It's not that I don't feel safe here, (In her head she scoffed) but I just really want to be at home right now."

The Doctor seemed satisfied with this, as he smiled, nodded understandingly, and helped her stand up from her chair.

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The TARDIS landed them back outside her flat, and the doors swung open for them. The Doctor guided her through the doors and into her living room, seating her on the sofa. Clara watched him head into her kitchen and heard the kettle turn on. She sighed and slumped back, closing her eyes and dragging a hand down her tired face. The pain in her leg was gone, she was relieved to realise. She opened her eyes and looked around her home since she had stopped being a nanny.

It was a relatively small but cosy flat, only about an hour away from the Maitlands. Artie had been distraught when he had heard she was leaving, and Angie had been upset too, as much as she tried to hide it. Clara hadn't wanted to move too far away from them either, and this place was as good as any.

The Doctor came back in, holding two steaming mugs, and handed one to her, settling down on the sofa beside her. She smiled and took a small sip, trying not to burn her tongue. They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither quite knowing what to say.

Now she was sat down, in her home and relaxed for the first time in about a month, she noticed how tired she was. She lolled her head round to face the Time Lord, and stared. He must have felt her eyes on him, because he looked at her curiously. "What's the matter now?" He asked, but not in a mean voice.

"Doctor, I think I'd like to take a small break," she said quietly. His eyes widened.

"A break?_ A break_? Why? What's happened? Has the TARDIS said something to you again?" His questions were fired too rapidly for her to answer, but she sighed and placed a hand on his arm.

"I don't mean I want to _stop, _stupid. I just need some time for some R&R, that's all," she said. He frowned, but nodded after a few moments.

"Right, of course, yes. That's fine. Fine, there's nothing wrong with that at all," he rambled, setting his mug down and fidgeting with his hands as he usually did when in an awkward situation. "I'll come back for you in a couple of weeks. Yes! That's exactly what I'll do." He stood and clapped his hands together. "I'll probably skip over a couple of weeks, don't want to get bored without you or anything." He kissed her forehead and she gave a small huff of laughter.

"Alright then Chin, I'll see you in a couple of weeks."

"What do you think you'll do while I'm gone then? Take a trip to the beach maybe?" he asked as she walked him to the TARDIS.

"I plan to spend the next couple of weeks in my bed, completely unconscious, if you must know. I'm exhausted."

He pulled a face. "Glad I'll be skipping forward. Sleeping for two whole weeks? Urgh, no thanks. I don't know how you humans can stand to sleep for so much of your lives, I really don't." He turned to her and grinned. "Rest easy, Soufflé Girl, I'll see you soon." He wrapped her in a hug, and then turned to step through the doors.

She watched the time machine dematerialize, then slipped into her bedroom, collapsing on her bed and falling asleep almost instantly, feeling completely safe without the Doctor for the first time in weeks.

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Clara blinked blearily as she heard the familiar wheezing sound of the TARDIS coming from her living room. She groaned and rolled over in her bed to face the clock. It was 3:30 am. A day after he'd left. Why, in name of soufflés, was he back here now?

She turned her back to her bedroom door and tried to ignore the sound, hoping to drift off back to sleep. If the Doctor came in and saw her asleep, he'd be sure to just leave her alone, at least until a more reasonable time, when she could have a go at him properly for waking her at 3 in the morning only a _day_ into her_ two week_ break.

Everything went quiet, and she began to slip back into her sleep again, a small smile curving her lips as bliss slowly took over her again.

"Clara?!" His shout snapped her awake again, and she felt her frustration setting in. "Clara, are you in here?" She said nothing, not quite believing that he was doing this. She heard her bedroom door open and she sat up straight, glaring angrily at the Doctor shaped shadow in the doorway.

"_Doctor_. _What_ are you _doing _here right now?! I was _trying_ to _sleep_. It is almost_ 4 o'clock in the morning_. You haven't even been gone _a day_." He frowned.

"Oh. Sorry, but uh, I thought I'd bring you some of your things from your room on the TARDIS, just in case you needed any of it, and, uh-" he rambled. She was too tired to notice that he was implying going into her very empty room, and only grew more irritated.

"AND WHAT?"

"Well, there was nothing there. The room was completely empty. And it was tiny. How have you been moving around in there? I mean I know you're short and all but-"

She cut him off, just now realising why he was here. "Doctor, you probably just got the wrong room. That's all." She wanted so badly to tell him the truth, and for him to tell her things would be fine, but she was worried, because if he began to piece everything together, that she was only here now because she was too scared to stay on the TARDIS, that she didn't keep any of her possessions there for fear of losing them forever, then his reaction could be ugly, and she didn't want him to be hurt. If he found out that his beloved time machine was driving her away, she feared he would be.

"Clara, seriously, what's going on? I want you to tell me. I'm worried for you." There it was again. The guilt. He stared into her bleary eyes, his gaze searching and intense. She didn't know what she was doing. Maybe she was just overtired, but quickly, before she knew it, she found her walls crashing, and she was telling him everything.

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**THANKS FOR READING, ONCE AGAIN! And thank you to all my reviewers, it really brightens my day when I see that someone's enjoyed the story. I'll see you all in a couple of days with the new chapter. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Again, thanks to every review, favourite and follow! I'll say now, I have ideas for a sequel, so please, let me know if you'd be interested :) I'm not too sure about how this chapter turned out, but please, enjoy!**

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It was 3:57 am. The ticking of Clara's bedside clock was the only sound that broke the uncomfortable silence between her and the Doctor. They were sat side-by-side, cross-legged on her bed, their backs up against the wall. Every few seconds they sneaked glances at one another, and then looked away before they had the chance to make eye contact.

"_So_," she thought, "_he knows now._" She looked over at him again, wondering whether she should break him out of his reverie or not. She had finished talking ten minutes ago, and since then they had simply sat and stared at her bedroom wall. The silence was heavy, it weighed down upon her and curled around her throat. She was still exhausted, and her eyelids kept shutting, trying to drag her back into the land of the unconscious, but she didn't want to sleep at a time like this. Not when the Doctor could just up and leave at any moment. Now, she wanted him to speak. She wanted to know he was okay, that he didn't hate her, or the TARDIS.

Try as she might, she couldn't think of a situation in which all of this was just forgotten, or where she and the Doctor kept on travelling just as they had been before. She knew things would be changing now, simply from the fact that as soon as she'd finished speaking the Doctor had sat and stared and not really done anything else. Normally, he would be stumbling over rushed words and dashing all over, a mess of elbows and bowties, in an attempt to right whatever was the wrong. Finally, mercifully, he broke the silence.

"So... what do you want to do?" She turned to him, surprised.

"What do..._ I_ want to do?" She hadn't expected him to ask her that. What was she supposed to say? "What d'you mean?"

He let out a long sigh. "Well, do you want to stop travelling, just stay here, or..." he trailed off and she jumped up from her slumped position.

"Of course I don't want to stop, idiot! As if I'd give up everything you've given me just because of the TARDIS! It's really not as bad as you think it is, y'know."

He looked at her skeptically. "It was bad enough for you to not feel safe enough to sleep in there though. I just wish you'd told me sooner. What if you'd had a more serious accident and I didn't know about it until it was too late?"

She cringed slightly and thought back to running through the endless corridors of the TARDIS, away from walls of fire and time zombies. "Nothing like that _did_ happen though Doctor. The TARDIS wouldn't try to _kill_ me. She just doesn't like me." He didn't look convinced.

He sighed and patted her uninjured leg before sliding off her bed and walking towards the door. She panicked. Where was he going? Was he leaving her for good? Had he had enough of her, or did he think she didn't actually want to travel with him anymore?

"Doctor?"

He turned back to her, with a slight smile, one that wasn't entirely convincing. "Not to worry, Clara. I'm just giving you the time you need. I'll see you in a couple of weeks, yeah?" She smiled back, and watched him leave, then dropped side ways onto her mattress, not bothering to get back under the covers. She was asleep before her head had even hit the pillow.

* * *

It had been three days since the Doctor had left, and, true to his word, he had not interrupted her alone time at all. While she was sure she should be using this time to relax and gather her thoughts, she couldn't stop worrying about where he was, what he was doing, or whether he and the TARDIS were still getting on as well as they normally did. Still, she was enjoying her R&R as much as she could. She'd taken a couple of long bubble baths, barely left her flat, just ordering take out food for dinner, and had a solo movie night. She looked forward to seeing the Doctor again, but for now, she would just enjoy the peace.

* * *

The Doctor had been gone for a week, and by now, Clara was bored, and missing him. She considered calling him, but didn't think that the TARDIS would let him answer.

She looked at the clock again. 10:51 am. She'd been awake for only two hours and she was already bored to death. She had watched every DVD on her shelf, and re-read half of the Harry Potter series.

She had visited the Maitlands' twice and taken them on a day trip to Alton Towers, despite their new nanny glaring at her and telling her that they had to stay at home to clean their bedrooms (Angie had been particularly happy to see Clara that day). She still hadn't found a new job, but had applied at a school near to where she lived, so she was holding out hope.

She was getting the peace she wanted, certainly, but too much of it. She had gotten used to the non-stop action from the Doctor and the lack thereof was just mind-numbing. She looked at the clock again, willing it to speed up, feeling only disappointment when nothing happened.

* * *

13 days. A pretty unlucky number, she thought. "_Only one day 'til the Doctor comes back, supposedly_". Now though, she was worried again. Was he going to come back for her at all? All the annoying doubts in the back of her head were pushing forward and forcing themselves to be heard. She wished they would just shut up, but no matter how hard she tried, her mind won over her will-power.

"_He's not going to come back, you know_," her head told her. "_You've scared him off, telling him such vicious things about his beloved TARDIS. Why would he choose to come back to you now_?"

They bothered her when she tried to sleep and when she woke up in the mornings. "Shut up," she said to herself. "Just shut up already. He's not abandoning me, he would never." The thoughts didn't stop though, and she became steadily more agitated, with them and herself. Since when did she get so stupidly hung up over a guy, one she didn't even fancy? "_It's not like you_," but she told herself. But this was different. She didn't miss him because she was in love with him or anything, it was because of everything that had happened since Trenzalore.

While she recovered from being in his time stream, he had looked over her, barely left her side, and made sure that nothing bad happened to her when she was so vulnerable. He'd not gone on any adventures or complained about his inactivity, even when it was obvious he was getting restless.

While in his time stream, she had learned more about him than she could have ever imagined, and just regretted finding out without him telling her. Sometimes she felt as though she should apologise for invading his privacy like she had, and other times she was just overwhelmed with everything. She had the memories of a thousand years in her head, and now she felt as though she and the Doctor understood each other more. That was why she was so anxious for him to return. She had simply never been closer to anyone else before.

She made herself a bowl of cereal and sat back again, now itching for the thrill of adventure once again.

She glanced at the clock, then at her watch, then at the time on her phone screen. None of this helped.

* * *

It was 6:30pm, on the 14th day since the Doctor left. He was due back today, and Clara desperately hoped that he'd be back. She was ready for the thrill again. Ready to run for her life, to see more of the universe. "Come on Doctor, come on," she muttered to herself, more than ready to leave her flat for more than just a trip to the shops.

She sat for another five minutes, trying to concentrate on her book, "Death Comes To Pemberly", before she gave up. She'd read it five times already anyway. She threw it down onto her coffee table and huffed but her heart leapt when she heard the familiar wheezing sound of the TARDIS, and she ran into the kitchen, beaming when she saw the blue box finally materialize, and the door swing open.

* * *

**Thanks again for reading! Don't forget to leave a review, and let me know what you all think about a sequel. :)**


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